


Put a Name to Destiny

by neuxue



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Gen, Zutara Month, but mostly zuko, discussion of child abuse (Ozai), zutara implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 12:12:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neuxue/pseuds/neuxue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko changes more than his destiny. Starts during "Lake Laogai." (Written for Day 4 of Zutara Month 2012: Change)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put a Name to Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> this is mainly the result of my attempts to explain why we see two different written versions of Zuko's name during the show (once on his "wanted" poster, once during "The Tales of Ba Sing Se"). I know it's more Zuko than Zutara, but that's how things go sometimes.

He dreams fever dreams, the kind that weave memory and madness with stray fragments of passing thoughts, all coloured with pain. Time and time again he sees his mother’s last smile, feels his father’s hand caress his face with fire. His argument with his uncle rings in his ears as images flash before his eyes, almost too fast to follow.  
  
 _I know my own destiny._ Find the Avatar. Capture the Avatar. The only way to restore his honour, the only way to return home, the only way to earn his father’s love. He sees the mask of the Blue Spirit sinking into the lake, sees the bison flying away. He sees his father’s face full of rage and disappointment. _Is it your own destiny?_ His father’s hand rests on his face and he looks up in momentary relief – he is forgiven. _Or is it a destiny someone else has tried to force on you?_ The heat, the fire, the sudden terror of realisation. And then the world is burning and he is screaming and the pain envelops him.  
  
 _Who are you? And what do you want?_ He is in the throne room again, circled by the two dragons. They whisper to him, always the same questions. _Who are you?_ Says the blue dragon in Azula’s voice. _And what do you want?_ Asks the other, the one that sounds like Uncle. The questions repeat, over and over and over, faster and faster as the dragons weave a dance around him, so fast they blur into a single undulating tongue of flame.  
  
 _Who are you?_ The dragons fly into the veil of fire and twist the flames until they spell out Zuko’s name, the characters made of strokes of fire hanging in the air. 祖寇: Zuko, ancestor’s thief. Then the flames rearrange themselves, and Zuko finds himself staring at two different characters. 蘇科: restored rule. Zuko. Two names, both his. _Who are you?_  
  
 _What do you want?_ Images appear in the fire. A hand on his shoulder, his father’s face looking down at him with pride in his eyes. His mother’s arms around him. The Avatar, flying away on his bison. The Water Tribe girl – Katara – offering help. The Fire Lord’s crown, resting on his own head. A carved circle set into a blue necklace. His father’s face. His Uncle’s smile. _What do you want?_  
  
 _Who are you? And what do you want?_ He tries to answer but no answer comes. _I know my destiny_ , he tries to say, but when he shouts the words to the sky they change in his mouth. _I DON’T KNOW!_ Lightning splits the sky apart, someone shouts his name, a wall of water crashes down over him.  
  
When he finally wakes, it is with the image of his name written in fire still burning in his mind. The flaming characters shift back and forth, volatile as the element itself, between the name he has known all his life, and the strange name presented in his dream, the name that is his and not his, the same and different. The name he could claim, should he choose. With just a spark of fire in his fingertip, he traces his name in the air in familiar, confident strokes. Then slowly he writes out the other, wondering if it is time to take a new name.  
  
He gets as far as writing out the first character of his name, but there he stops, unable to complete the ritual. Not now. Not yet. He burns the paper and lets the ash scatter. He’ll ask Uncle later, this isn’t a decision to be taken lightly.  
  
He never gets the chance. Azula makes sure of that.  
  
His eyes widen in surprise when Katara says his name. For a second he is back in the fever dream, her voice offering help. A giant wave crashing around him. He remembers their fight at the North Pole, and thinks for a moment that maybe they don’t have to be enemies any longer.  
  
She clearly thinks otherwise, as she shouts at him that he is his father’s son. A hand on his face, then the fire. She doesn’t know. She couldn’t know. And when she tells him about her mother, he begins to understand. _That’s something we have in common_ , he says. _We don’t have to be enemies, he thinks_. And then the fierce, proud Water Tribe girl, once his sworn enemy, looks him in the eye and apologises.  
  
He tells her what he has realised – that he is free to choose his own destiny. When she offers to heal his scar, to free him of the mark of the banished Prince, of his father’s curse, he doesn’t need Uncle’s advice. His choice is clear. A new face to match a new name, no longer divided, no longer split in two. Whole. He nods, and hardly dares to breathe as she lifts a hand to his face.  
  
Then with a crash, the Avatar appears, and Katara runs to him, leaving Zuko to stare after her as his chance of being whole slips away and he is left with the two warring halves of his face, his name, his entire being. He had been so close; for an instant he had felt the certainty of his choice, his destiny. Now the Avatar glares at him with hatred not tempered with apology or forgiveness, and Zuko feels the familiar rage rise within him even as Uncle embraces him.  
  
He glares accusingly at Iroh, the anger of having his destiny – his chosen destiny this time – stolen once again by the Avatar overwhelming all other thought. _You have come to the crossroads of your destiny_ , his Uncle tells him. _It’s time for you to choose_.  
  
 _But I did choose,_ Zuko wants to shout. _I chose, and then it was taken from me._ But the words are lost to the turmoil within him as he battles himself. Anger wars with sympathy, forgiveness with revenge, the two diverging paths of his destiny. Then the blue dragon’s voice joins in and for a second he is back in the dream again, but no, Azula is here and Uncle is trapped. They both urge him to choose, and his eyes flick back and forth from one to the other. Azula speaks of redemption, telling him it’s not too late. He wonders if she’s right, if there is still a chance of reclaiming his honour, his family, his father’s acceptance. But then Iroh begs him not to listen, and he knows that she offers nothing but false hope, false promises. _You are free to choose_.  
  
But choose what? The certainty of a few moments ago is gone, the two versions of his name flicker back and forth in his mind as he stares around at the Avatar, his sister, his uncle. At the girl who gave him a glimpse of his destiny then stole it away.  
  
Katara goes back to the others, as he knew she would. Azula attacks before he can think, before he can decide. It is Katara who steps up to fight back, to defend the Avatar. He still doesn’t know what to do, but even with the anger coursing through him he knows that he cannot turn against the girl who offered to heal him. But he knows, too, that Azula will stop at nothing to defeat the Avatar, and Katara stands in her way. I _’m sorry, Uncle,_ he thinks, and sends a ball of fire at the Avatar. Azula smiles, and Zuko wonders if perhaps there was some truth to her words after all.  
  
His fury at the Avatar overwhelms everything else, and he shoots fireball after fireball. And then he sees Azula suspended in midair, and it only takes a glance at Katara’s face to know what is about to happen. But he has chosen his path, and Azula is his sister. He sends fire out to save her, and finds himself locked into a battle with the girl who, only moments before, laid a gentle hand on his scarred face, without even a hint of disgust in her expression.  
  
 _I thought you had changed_ , she shouts at him, and the tone of betrayal in her voice is almost enough to unmake his choice. But she is safe from Azula as long as she is fighting him. He will not kill her. _I have changed_ , he replies, not even sure himself if the words are true. He has accepted his name, his destiny, but perhaps there is no going back. Azula steps in once again, and Katara is thrown back. _Safe_ , Zuko thinks with hidden relief.  
  
The Avatar falls, and Zuko accepts his destiny. He hopes Azula cannot see the pain in his eyes as he fights Iroh, the uncle who loved him like a son. The others escape. The Avatar is gone, but Katara is safe. His debt is repaid. _I betrayed Uncle_ , he says, and even Azula’s promise of restored honour does little to assuage the guilt and shame. But he puts those thoughts aside at the prospect of going home at last.  
  
Over the course of the next few weeks, Zuko tries to return to his former place, tries to convince himself that it is all true. His father accepts him, his people cheer for him, Mai embraces him. But still the nightmares plague him, still the choice he didn’t make haunts him. He looks at the portrait of himself with his father’s arm around his shoulder, and wonders if he will ever again be able to accept Ozai’s love without questioning, without wondering when it will again turn to anger and pain.  
  
He tosses the portrait into the fire, but it does little to ease his thoughts. He thinks of his father’s hand on his shoulder. His father’s fiery hand on his face. His uncle’s arms around him. He thinks of the name he rejected, the choice he could have made. The others ask who he is angry at, and it is only when he shouts that he is angry at himself that he understands. I _’m not sure I know the difference between right and wrong anymore._  
  
When the mysterious scroll arrives, telling him to look into his great-grandfather’s history, he follows it without hesitation, desperate for something, anything, that might help him figure out what to do. It doesn’t take him long to be certain his uncle is behind it, and he storms to Iroh’s cell to demand answers, the way he wishes he had demanded advice back in Ba Sing Se, before the fight in the crystal catacombs.  
  
This uncle’s words shock hem to the core. Avatar Roku, his great-grandfather? _Evil and good are always at war inside you, Zuko. It is your nature, your legacy_. The two warring sides of his self, his name, his ancestry. Maybe it is not too late to change his mind, change his destiny. It is only after he leaves that he wonders how Iroh could have credited his choice between good and evil to Zuko’s ancestry. After all, Iroh had none of Roku’s blood, and he was in prison now because he was far better than the rest of them.  
  
Try as he might, Zuko cannot get his uncle’s words out of his head. He continues to play his part, but all the while he wonders if he is doing the right thing. If he would even recognise the right thing anymore. But when Mai mentions the war meeting, all thoughts of his lineage, of good and evil, are shocked out of his head. His father has rejected him. Again. All his turmoil, his guilt, his choice, all of it was for nothing. I _should have listened to you, Uncle,_ he thinks.  
  
He can’t help the almost childish rush of joy when he finds out he is expected at the meeting. He has spent so long trying to please his father, and it is a painful habit to let go of, because giving up would mean admitting failure, admitting that he will never be worthy of Ozai’s love. He plays his part perfectly during the meeting, but his mind is in chaos. This time there are no dragons whispering in his ears, no sister or uncle shouting to him, no former enemy offering aid and sympathy. His choice will be his own, this time. This time, he will not look back.  
  
 _I was the son my father wanted_ , he says to Mai, hoping she will understand. _But I wasn’t me_. Because he knows now which name he will choose. He knows what must be done. He turns away and walks to his room, where he stares at his face in the mirror, scarred and divided, before removing the crown from his topknot and letting his hair fall around his face. Then with a deep breath, he spreads a sheet of paper out on the table and reaches for a brush.  
  
He writes out his name in clear, bold strokes, and looks down at it, determined. Then he sets the paper on fire and watches as his name burns. Only a pile of ashes remains. The old Zuko is gone. He gathers the ashes carefully this time, to complete the second stage of the ritual. He mixes the ashes with the ink, then, on a second sheet of paper, writes out his new name, the name from his dreams. Carefully, with precision that surprises him, he traces a tiny flicker of flame across the strokes of ink and ash, and his new name glows, reborn from the ashes of the old.  
  
He writes a letter to Mai, then. The only one who may understand, and the only one he cannot leave without explanation. D _ear Mai,_ he begins, then writes as much of an apology as he can. He signs it with his name – his new name. She will know. After all, his name is still Zuko. He reads the letter once, then makes one final change. _Dear Mai_ , it reads, _or Mei_. It is her childhood nickname, the name everyone calls her, though it is never written. 美: Mei. Beautiful. He hopes she will understand that he is giving her the same choice.  
  
 _I know I made some bad choices_ , Zuko says, kneeling in front of his mother’s portrait. _But today I’m going to set things right_. The eclipse will begin soon. Zuko picks up his dao blades and goes to find Ozai. He is no longer the scared boy who begged for love from the man who kissed his face with fire. That person is gone. _I’m ready to face you._  
  
Without the shadow of his old name hanging over him, he sees his father clearly now. He no longer fears for his honour when he tells Ozai that the Avatar is alive. Ozai has no honour, and no power to remove or restore it. And he is powerless again when Zuko stands his ground against his father’s commands. _I’m not taking orders from you anymore_. He will not do Ozai’s bidding in a futile attempt to win his love. Those days are over. When Ozai stands to threaten him, Zuko unsheathes his dao in a flash of steel, and the look of fear and wariness on Ozai’s face sends a rush of triumph through him.  
  
He sees it now, and throws his realisations at his father like Mai’s knives. I _t was cruel,_ he says, _and it was wrong_. Right and wrong have never been so clear. Ozai sneers, says Iroh must have got to him. But he no longer has the power to shame Zuko, and Zuko just smiles and agrees. Iroh is more his father than the man sitting in front of him ever was. He tells Ozai as much, before making his final pronouncement. _I’m going to join the Avatar. And I’m going to help him defeat you. I know my own destiny_. And his destiny is _his._  
  
He turns to leave, but Ozai calls after him, the only words that could possibly make him pause. _Don’t you want to know what happened to your mother?_ Cursing himself for allowing Ozai to have any power over him, Zuko turns around. He knows Ozai is stalling for time, but he listens nonetheless. Listens and hopes. Still, when the lightning comes, he is expecting it. He remembers the words he once shouted at the sky. _You’ve always thrown everything you could at me. Well I can take it! And now I can give it back! Go on, strike me. You’ve never held back before_! Looking at Ozai as his hands fill with lightning, Zuko knows who the words were always intended for.  
  
He sees surprise and shock and even a hint of admiration on Ozai’s face before the power of the lightning flowing through him becomes overwhelming. He releases it, just missing his father. He will not shoot lightning at his own family. Then he runs.  
  
He steals a balloon and sets off, following the Avatar once more, but this time everything is changed. He has a new name and a new purpose as he flies in pursuit of his chosen destiny.


End file.
